


Ripples & Waves

by Parabatrai



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Malec
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 04:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14887725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parabatrai/pseuds/Parabatrai
Summary: Just weeks after Valentine's defeat, the Nephilim and Downworld alike are just adjusting back to normal life. With Alec and Magnus finally not having to worry about any more perils surrounding them, or any of the others, things are finally looking up. What they don't realize, however, is that one man is making it his business to tear all that back down again...





	1. He is not a Man. He is a Storm with Skin

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is, story 2. Hope you enjoy!

Catarina Loss knocked on the solid oak door. Once. Twice. Three times. It swung open before her knocking had reached the desperation of four. "I'd recognize that door destroying knock anywhere. Care to kick it down while you're at it?" The warlock on the other side's voice dripped with sarcasm as she pushed past him into his loft. "What's on your mind, Cat?" Catarina ran a hand through her braids and blew out a breath. She must have been running. In actual fact, now that she shook off her dripping coat (onto Magnus' 17th Century Venetian rug, to his annoyance) he noticed that she still had on her nurses scrubs. "It's…Idris," she sighed. He shrugged. "You'll have to be more specific than that, Sweetheart." "I've just had that Santiago vampire corner me about it. He asked if the warlocks knew anything about a new Consul. A new Manhattan Consul. Sent from Idris. He's coming this week, apparently." Magnus couldn't understand the panic radiating from his closest friend. A new Consul wasn't a terrifically huge phenomenon, especially not to the Downworld. His blank expression made Catarina continue.

"His name is Mitchell Freeworld. Raphael seemed really tense about this guy, so I researched him. He's an ex-Circle member, Magnus. Got out before the Uprising, but…" "Catarina, the Lightwoods were Circle Members too. As were Jocelyn and Luke. How does that make him any different?" Catarina reached down to her coat and pulled her phone out of the pocket. Magnus could already see the pool of water soaking into his centuries old rug. Lovely. "Manhattan hasn't had a real, long-term Consul in years, and yeah, after everything that's happened here, then there should obviously be suspicion from the Clave, but this man…" she showed Magnus a picture of the man that worried her. The man was dressed neatly in a white suit, with a seraph blade at his side like a walking stick. He was hard to age, but Magnus guessed he was roughly sixty. Possibly older, but definitely not younger. He seemed tall, though there was no indication in the photograph to prove this, and he was large in stature. His face was as pale as a vampires and held no smile. Runes carved their way around his hands, and a stamina Rune took its place on his neck, the opposite side to where Alec's deflection Rune was. No glimmer of emotion seeped through him. Only coldness and ice, like his eyes. His hair was the only thing that was unkempt. It was white, light and feathery. It didn't suit him. Something about this man screamed recognition at Magnus, but the warlock couldn't place it.

He didn't know him. Magnus handed Catarina back her phone as rain pelted against the window panes. "I don't know about him, Magnus," Catarina sighed as she pulled her coat back on. It hardly seemed worth her while taking it off, so Magnus' rug was destroyed for no apparent reason. "There's something about him. Raphael was one freaked out vampire." "I'll ask him about it, if it makes you feel any better," he offered, crossing his arms. He noticed a tear in his wine coloured jacket while he did, and with a flick of his fingers, blue sparks sewed it up again. "Be sure to. And the Lightwood boy, too."

Magnus loved Catarina with all his heart. She and Ragnor had been his best friends and most loyal companions for centuries. Now that Ragnor was gone, Magnus realized with a pang in his heart, that Catarina was all that more dear to him. She wasn't replacing Ragnor, no one ever could, but she could help him move forward, as he would help her. However, if there was one thing that bugged Magnus about her, was her massive distaste for Nephilim. That was understandable after all the hate Downworlders had been showed by them in the past. They both remembered times when it was safer hidden from the angel-blooded heroes than demons and rogue Downworlders put together. But times were changing, and that was all down to Alec or 'the Lightwood boy' as Catarina called him.

He wasn't a boy.

He was a man.

He was his man.

He didn't need Alec's mortality issue right now. They would tackle that hurdle when they came to it, and he dreaded that day with all his heart. He shoved it to the back of his mind. He didn't contradict his friend on this matter, however. Now was not the time. She was on edge enough without him pushing her off it.

"I certainly will," was all he said as drops of rain from Catarina's coat spattered onto his face. "Right. I've got to get back to Madzie." "Bring her next time," Magnus smiled as he thought of the little warlock girl he rescued. So much hardship and grief in her young life. He wanted no more to ever touch her. He couldn't shelter her forever, though. "As if I could wrestle her off of Alec," she smiled, pulling up her hood. She clicked her fingers and lilac sparks materialized into an umbrella. It was black and plain. Magnus would have added glitter. As she closed the door behind her, he thought of Mitchell. He thought of the surname 'Freeworld'. Where had he heard it? Perhaps it was an old Shadowhunter name, such as Herondale or Fairchild. He picked his phone off of the counter top and searched his contacts. The first name to appear was 'Alexander'. His finger hovered over the screen. He didn't press it. He turned to look out of the large, balcony window. Rain pattered against it. It was cold and dark outside. Grey and black were the only colours above, and yellow New York lights shone below, distorted through the panes. He turned off his phone.

Izzy kicked the punching bag again and again. She knew she should have been happy that they defeated Valentine just two and a half weeks before. Though Jace acted strange sometimes, everyone else seemed happy. But looks could be deceiving. As she peeled back the layers of the people she knew, cared about or loved, she could see through the cracks of their smiles. She thought of her parents, unable to stay in the same room as each other. Though Maryse was strong, she was broken in ways a Shadowhunter never should be. She was brokenhearted. Izzy hated Robert for that. She thought of Max, who was so strong and brave for a nine year old. He was proud of himself for standing up to Sebastian, or Jonathan as they should have called him, but never did. If you looked close enough though, you could see the fear within his eyes. He had crawled to her room, injured and bleeding, before passing out, and she wasn't there for him. Sebastian had nearly killed him, and she couldn't imagine the fear that ran through him, knowing that he couldn't fight back, couldn't win. He wasn't as good as Sebastian. He wasn't good enough.

Alec was happy now, she knew that. Magnus made him happy. They belonged together, and only to each other. Anyone could see that, even Maryse could, though she preferred to look away. One day Robert would. One day Alec would be able to look every one of the Lightwoods in the eye, with his love by his side, and be happy. He was there with Izzy, he was as there as he was going to get with Max, but his parents would be there one day. There with him and with Magnus. One day… Jace was victorious. Jace was a champion. Of course he knew that. Or at least he should have. But ever since the battle at Lake Lyn with Valentine, he was different. He wasn't Jace. She couldn't place it, but she had presumed he had shocked himself. His father was dead. Not his biological father, and not his adoptive Lightwood father, but the one in the middle. The one that shaped him so brutally into the warrior he had become.

He hated him.

He was a monster.

He was still his father, neither biological nor adoptive, but now he was gone. Clary was Valentine's daughter, but she felt no love loss for him. He was a monster and she saw that. She was the hero of the hour, she was the heroine from the storybooks. But she had lost the most important part of her in the most terrible way possible. Jocelyn should have celebrated her glory with them, with her, but she wasn't. It wasn't just Clary affected. Alec had guilt so crippling, had Magnus not arrived just in time, he would be dead now too. Luke had lost his the love of his life. It's so strange how one person can influence so many, but there it is. Finally, she thought of herself. Her addiction had destroyed her, but she was strong. She was resilient, and she, despite how awful she felt, was a good Shadowhunter. She wasn't weak, and she wasn't afraid.

She thought of Raphael, how they could never work, and she knew that in her heart, but how she wished they could. How one vampire could get under her skin so much, she didn't understand. Their relationship was one based on addiction and unhealthy desires. As Raphael said, one slip up, and they could be back there. How mundane. How mundane addictions were. Angel-blooded creatures should be better than that. Perhaps there was a little bit of mundane in everyone, whether human, Nephilim or Downworlder. She punched the bag too hard. It spun off of the rack, landing with a thump. Hey knuckles were bruised and bloody, and her jet black hair stuck to her back and forehead. Her clothes were sticky and her make-up ran down her face. She looked like she had been crying. Only when she reached up and felt the wetness of her cheeks, did she realize she had been. Crying was for mundanes, too. She dragged the back for her hand across her eyes and went to pick up the bag.

"Isabelle," came a voice from behind her. It was Robert's, why he was in the Institute right now was a mystery, but she didn't turn around straight away. She did it slow and carefree, as to show him that she was still angry with him. That she might always be. "Yes?" she muttered, then jolted. He wasn't alone. Standing beside him was a taller man in a grey suit and feathery white hair. He stared at her, and she felt scrutinized under his gaze. She felt uneasy with just a black training tank top on. She shrugged on her hoodie, despite her being too hot for it, just to cover up. He was freaking her out. His ice cold eyes were strange. One worked, the other was either lazy or glass. "This is my daughter, Isabelle," Robert said, gesturing to her. The man nodded in curt response.

"Izzy, this is Mitchell Freeworld, the new Manhattan Consul." Izzy nodded. He would be like Aldertree, she already knew that much, but at least Aldertree was pleasant to look at. "And the boys?" Mitchell's voice was gravelly. Aldertree had a nice voice, at least. Robert paled slightly. Izzy wondered why. "Well, the youngest is Max, he's only nine, but he's got a great future ahead of him. In fact, once he took on Jon…" "I want to hear about the other one. Alan or something? The one with the demon blooded boyfriend." Izzy's fists tightened. She heard her father gargle a noise in his throat before pressing forward. "Alexander. My eldest. Head of the Institute." "Where is he? Surely the Head should answer to the Consul. Or at the very least, welcome him in." Mitchell stifled a laugh before reaching out a hand to pat Robert's shoulder mockingly.

"Or, do you already know where he is?" Robert's face reddened in embarrassment. If he wasn't going to stick up for her brother, she would. "I don't see how having a warlock partner makes him any less capable of running the Institute." Her ferocity shocked even herself. Mitchell seemed amused. Robert looked like he wanted to die. "It's not the sexual orientation that intrigues me," he scoffed. "I know gay people. I know gay Shadowhunters. I don't, however, know Shadowhunter who openly goes out with a Downworlder. What did you say it was, a warlock?" He spoke of Magnus as if he were a half-breed of dog. "

No offence, Robert, but I'd be worried, if I were you. The Angel only knows how dangerous that kind of thing can be when you get it pissed off. One argument about curtain colours, and your son is toasted Nephilim. In fact…" He never got to finish. Maryse whipped into the room behind the men, her voice welcoming, yet clipped. "Consul Freeworld," she smiled, though it was fake and icy. "Perhaps you have seen enough of the training facility. I assure you there are more interesting parts of the Institute yet to explore." She stepped aside to let the men pass, Robert ducking his eyes not to meet her gaze. She locked eyes with her daughter and gave a sad smile.

She heard everything.


	2. Eyes Have Their Own Vocabulary – What a Beautiful Language to Learn

Magnus watched his phone ring. It was Alec on the other end of it. He wanted nothing more than to hear his boyfriend's voice, to talk to him. He wanted to see him and hug him and kiss him. He needed to tell him he loved him and to hear it back. He still didn't answer though. He couldn't stop thinking of Freeworld. Couldn't understand how he knew him, yet he didn't at the same time. He would have preferred him a perfect stranger. At least then he could be at peace. The phone stopped ringing and the screen went back to normal. Seven missed calls from Alexander. As well as some texts.

'Hey, u OK?'

'Do you want company?'

The High Warlock of Brooklyn didn't know what was wrong with him. Why was he acting like this? He wanted nothing more than to text him back, say he was OK, say yes, in fact he did want company. He craved it, and only from Alexander. It wasn't just Alec, though. He didn't make contact with Raphael yet, nor anyone else for that matter. He didn't understand those, but he did understand Alec. Alec had come so far, in every way possible. He had grown up and into the strongest man Magnus had ever known. He was trying so hard to unite the Downworld with the Clave. Magnus didn't want to be the one to destroy that. Not until he looked into Mitchell some more. He just needed to be alone. He just needed…

A knock on the door. Not Clary's persistent bashings, not Jace's single knock. Not Catarina's slow yet everlasting hammerings. This was two gentle knocks. Two knuckles on the door. This was Alec.

Magnus stood, then walked to the door. He absentmindedly fixed his collar, not that Alec would mind messy attire, but if Magnus ever wanted to teach his love the glorious art of fanciness, he needed to stick by his guns. Magnus opened the door, and straight away he smiled. Alec stood there, messy hair and grubby black gear. He was just back from a mission. His hair was wet, so he must have walked from the Institute in the rain to see him. To see his love. He was all Magnus needed right now.

"Hey, you," Alec's deep voice made Magnus' stomach leap. He opened the door and let him in.

"Hello, Alexander," he retorted, planting a kiss on Alec's lips. It was short, and not nearly enough, but Alec could sense there was something wrong.

"There's something bothering you," Alec cupped the back of Magnus' neck, eyes embedded intently into his, and Magnus played with a loose lock of Alec's hair. He could pretend, for now. He smiled.

"Nothing is bothering me," Magnus said as he kissed Alec again. It was slow and this time it lasted. It didn't last as long as either of them would have liked, though.

"You said that before…" Alec said between kisses, "…and there was something wrong."

"Alexander, I'm fine," Magnus laughed. Alec raised an eyebrow.

"You said that too."

"All that is wrong with me…" Magnus started as he gripped Alec's shirt, (which was grubby with the Angel only  _knew_  what, so it was better off of him anyway) "…is that I've missed you."

"I was gone  _a day_ ," Alec said, copying his boyfriend and tugging at his clothing. Magnus shrugged off his jacket and smiled.

"To me, that's an eternity." Suddenly, he felt a twinge in his eyes. A quick flash across his vision. He knew what was happening. His glamour fell and climbed back into his eyes, despite his battle for control. One second they were human, the next they were feral. He was fighting with himself. Fighting with his demons. He didn't want to lose control, he didn't  _ever_  want to lose control, but it seemed a smaller problem now than it did before. He didn't mind showing his eyes when he was in control. Not when he was locked out of himself. When he lost himself. However, at this moment in time, he didn't know why, he remembered Max, who freaked out at the sight of his true form.

_'How much demon is in you?'_

He admitted it may have been frightening. One moment he was somewhat human, the next he wasn't. He was a monster.

Without noticing, he pulled away from Alec, and reached up to his eyes.

_Not now! Please not now! I am in control. I am in control. I am not a monster. I am not a monster. I am not. A. Monster._

He rubbed his eyes so hard they hurt, his head down, as if in shame. Maybe it was. He felt as if he was underwater. Everything sounded distorted as he fought with himself. As he fought with his demons. He was vaguely aware of his name being called. He was spun back to face Alec, Alec holding Magnus by both shoulders. His hearing restored, but his he could still feel his eyes. They were still animal. They were still feral. He didn't want to show them. He  _never_  wanted to show them. Not like this.

"Magnus! Stop! Magnus!" Alec pulled him closer, and to his dismay, Magnus did what he was asked. He dropped his hands from his eyes, and Alec grabbed the right one, holding it and stroking his thumb over the warlock's soft skin in crescent moons. He moved his other hand to Magnus' face, cupping his cheek and running through the same motions. Magnus tried to smile, but his eyes stayed staring at the floor. He would not look into Alec's eyes. "Magnus,  _please_ , look at me." Alec pulled him closer. The only recognition on Magnus' behalf was a smile. He reached up to Alec's hand on his cheek, holding it in place. He still wasn't in control. Perhaps he didn't need to be. "Magnus…" The warlock raised his eyes. Amber, fiery cat eyes met soft brown pools. Alec smiled. "There," he smiled. "Just as they always are. Beautiful." He leaned forward, leaning his forehead against Magnus'. He wondered what he would do without this particular Lightwood. Like neither of his parents, and so much better.

Alec pulled him into a tight hug, one they both needed. Magnus buried his head into his boyfriend's shoulder. Alec could smell the sandalwood in Magnus' styled hair, and wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever. When they pulled away, Magnus was smiling again. His eyes were human, and while that gave Magnus back his sense of control, it disappointed Alec. He loved his cat eyes. They were a part of Magnus, and even though Magnus was not proud of them, Alec felt he should have been. They were his mark. It was what made him what he was - a warlock. Why was he ashamed of that? For what some cunning demon did hundreds of years ago? Something that wasn't even his fault?

For the moment however, Alec was just happy to see that Magnus had calmed down. In fact, in place on his face was his cheeky grin.

"Now, Alexander. Where were we?"

Clary and Isabelle tried their best to shield themselves from the rain. They wished they hired a taxi, but at least this gave the girls a chance to talk.

"Both our parents were ex-Circle members, Izzy," Clary said as she trotted behind Isabelle. "As were many others. We don't have to fear this guy. Plus, he left  _before_  the Uprising…"

"You didn't  _see_  him though," Izzy almost hissed, her black hair shining under the street lamps. The moon was full tonight, so Clary presumed Luke was with Maia and the pack. She turned her attention back to Izzy. "There's something about him. He's...weird. I tried to check him up on the records, but all it says is that he was in the Circle before the Uprising, but never took part in the battle. Therefore he was never punished. My parents were punished, Hodge was punished. Freeworld doesn't have clean hands, I know it. Even the way he spoke of Magnus…he thinks of Downworlders as half-breeds. Demonic half-breeds. Well, warlocks anyway."

"So what's our plan then? Go in there, tell Magnus some guy hates him and leave?" Izzy rolled her eyes and was about to retort when something caught her eye. A flash in the shadows. She stopped and reached for her seraph blade, her hand hovering over the hilt. Clary gripped her stele tightly, so tightly her fingers turned white. There hadn't been much demonic activity since Valentine was defeated and the rift was sealed. An occasional demon here and there, but nothing too exciting. Even the mission Jace and Alec were on earlier that day had led to nothing but a few minor demons. Izzy wanted excitement, she wanted her Nephilim spark, she wanted…

Raphael stepped quietly out of the shadows, hands held out in surrender. Clary never lost her grip on the stele as she watched him. He was one vampire that she cared not to trust. Izzy, on the other hand, dropped her hostility. He gave a smile directed at the raven haired girl, and simply nodded his head in Clary's direction.

"You're going to see Magnus?" he asked. His voice seemed to purr and lilt at the same time. She nodded, but couldn't hold back her smile. He simply gave a quick upturn of his lips, but something about him was off. "Then I'll come with you."

"Way to invite yourself," Clary mumbled as she put her stele back in her pocket. He raised an eyebrow in her direction, but said nothing.

"I take it you know about the Consul then?" Izzy asked, taking a step closer to him. Their eyes met for a brief moment, before Raphael looked down. He nodded, his eyes fixated on her shoes.

"I knew about the Consul before the Consul did," he fixed on a smile. Clary was glad to see his fangs weren't out. She still didn't trust him. "Vampires are very…informative."

"I can only imagine," Izzy smiled. Their eyes met again, this time for longer. Clary didn't like the intimacy of others. She found it awkward. She coughed.

"Eh-hem," she muttered. "Magnus?" Raphael simply rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. If looks could kill, Isabelle would have murdered Clary seven times before she hit the ground.

"Magnus," he repeated.

Clary's persistent bashings echoed through the loft. Isabelle realized at this very moment, with Clary's innocence and Raphael's sober persona standing at both sides of her in the small corridor outside of Magnus' door, a minor detail. Alec might be in there. Alec might be with Magnus. In the loft. Wanting  _privacy_. It was a sudden wash of humorous horror. Had she been there on her own, it would have been funny, cute even, but she felt both embarrassment and guilty as Clary knocked. She was interrupting a moment to deliver bad news. With someone at her side that Alec didn't particularly like…actually, with  _two_  people Alec didn't particularly like. The door swung open. Alec stood in the doorway. He was completely dressed, thank the Angel, though his hair was ruffled. He saw Izzy (raised an eyebrow) and saw Clary (raised the other eyebrow). His eyes then landed on Raphael, who stifled a smile, glancing at Alec's messy hair and grubby, rumpled clothes. Alec scowled.

"The  _hell_  are you doing here?" Alec growled. Izzy didn't know who he was talking to, but Clary answered.

"Sorry to intrude…" she began.

"We've just got something to tell you, being the Head of the Institute we thought you should know…" Izzy finished, but Alec's eyes were still glued to the offending vampire standing right next to Izzy. Too close to Izzy.

"And this couldn't have waited an hour?" Alec grumbled peeling his eyes away from him and turning to glare at the girls.

"I sense hostility," purred a voice from behind him. Alec's face instantly softened, turning to the side to look back at his love. Izzy squeezed in, whipping her hair into her big brother's face.

"Hey, Magnus," she smiled, adding an air of extra friendliness to her tone. The warlock emerged from his study, courteous and accommodating as always. Unlike Alec, he was perfect. His hair remained styled and his clothes without a crease. It was amazing what magic could do. Izzy bit her lip to stop her smile.

"Isabelle," he nodded, walking towards her and the door. Alec left to join him, with his signature scent of bitterness and frustration lingering behind him. "Biscuit." Clary rolled her eyes at the pet name, but smiled. "And…Raphael. Don't just stand there. I want to close my door." Raphael stalked past Alec, his scent of superiority and pride intoxicating Alec. He restrained himself from banging the door shut.

"This is about…?" Alec huffed, crossing his arms and standing next to his boyfriend.

"The new Consul," Magnus finished, his tone low and defeated. He glanced down. That uneasy feeling in his stomach was back, like a hangover after a night's worth of drinking. Alec had been a blissful distraction, but now he was forced to think about it again. It wrecked his head. Freeworld…Freeworld. Where had he heard that name?! Alec looked blank. He was the Head of the Institute. Shouldn't he have known?

"A new Consul? For Manhattan?" To Alec's utter annoyance, Raphael answered.

"Mitchell Freeworld. Hardly a worthy candidate. Ex-Circle member. As discriminatory to Downworlders as they come. Surely  _you_  knew, Shadowhunter?" Alec's blood boiled at Raphael's smugness.

"Play nice," Magnus uttered. Raphael still smiled.

"We didn't know either, if it makes you feel better," Clary offered. It didn't make him feel better. It made him feel worse, actually. Clary turned to Raphael and Magnus, stepping back to look at both at the same time. "How did  _you_  guys know?"

"Vampires are very informative," Raphael repeated. Magnus rolled his eyes.

"The thing is, I've heard of the Freeworld's before. I just can't place it," the warlock ran a hand through his hair. Clary was sure she could see glitter on the strands as he carried out the motion. "I've researched. I've read. I've asked everyone. But I  _know_  it. I know I've dealt with them before. I just don't understand it." Alec understood now why Magnus seemed out of character earlier. He wished he had told him. He could have helped him. He was about to speak when Raphael interjected.

"My clan are unhappy," he purred. "Too many of us have died helping the Shadowhunters, defending  _against_  Shadowhunters and even minding our own damn business from Shadowhunters. All past positions of power in the New York Institute have been nothing if not aggressive towards us. Aldertree, Herondale, the Lightwoods…no offence." He turned to Izzy. "Finally, though I hate to admit it, you have a half-decent Head, and you throw in another  _goddamn Circle member_!" Magnus was silent. He remembered the fear in Catarina's eyes, and now he could see Raphael's.

"You're worried about the vampires?" Clary asked. Raphael locked eyes with Magnus, as if to ask  _'is this not the most stupid Nephilim in all of New York?'_  Magnus looked away.

"He's worried about  _Downworlders_ ," Magnus muttered as he walked towards his desk. He traced his fingers along the cover of a book lying on top of it. It was the last thing Ragnor ever gave him. Everything was written in Hebrew, so Magnus could struggle through it, but not fantastically well. He preferred not to read it, to just have it. His heart plummeted. The Circle had killed Ragnor, and his death would never be avenged. His death was for nothing.

"You OK?" Magnus could hear Alec ask him, but he had no answer. He couldn't stop a man becoming elected if he couldn't even remember his blasted name. He spun, keeping his gaze focused on the boots of the Shadowhunters, not raising his eyes to anyone else's.

"For now," he answered eventually. "There is nothing we can do. We can't stop a man with no charges. As far as the Clave is concerned, he is innocent. Even more innocent than Hodge and the Lightwoods. Even more innocent than Luke." Magnus was about to mention Jocelyn, but held back when he saw Clary. She understood.

" _Innocent_?  _Dios_ , are you  _kidding_  me?" Raphael all but shouted. His hands were balled into fists by his side and he all but shook with rage. "How innocent can he be if he was in the Circle? How does one claim innocence when they  _willingly_  join a Downworld hate club? No, actually, a Downworld  _murder_  club. Throwing silver on lycanthropes, tying iron onto faeries, all but frying the Night's Children…and the warlocks weren't safe either. You must have heard tales, Magnus, of the rowan whips? And that's just the training. Even if he left before the Uprising, we was still a part of  _that_. Even though they may not be dead, there are disfigured, maimed Downworlders walking all over the world baring the cruel marks of the Circle. And what's even more sickening, is that they are the  _lucky_  ones. They are  _alive_." Raphael finished his rant with an exhale. Clary, Alec and Izzy avoided the gaze of the Downworlders. Clary must have heard of the punishments, the murders. The torture. She and the Lightwoods at her left were innocent. It wasn't their fault who their parents were before they were born. Robert and Maryse, both ex-Circle members. Jocelyn, and even Luke, both ex-Circle members. Her father was the  _founder_  of the Circle. She wondered why Magnus didn't hate them. Why Raphael didn't kill them the first change he got. How were the Downworlders so forgiving?

The answer? They had to be. Rogue Downworlders died.

"I understand, Raphael." Magnus sought out his eyes, and intentionally, his glamour fell. His amber cat eyes glinted with the same sadness and frustration as Raphael's. This man, centuries younger than Magnus, though decades older than anyone else in this room, was like a son to him. He was blunt and stubborn and made rash decisions, but he was not a bad person, and Magnus would always feel the need to protect him. "I understand."

Those words, however simple, however cliché, were enough to send self-awareness, soberness, back into the Night's Child. He looked down as Magnus' eyes shifted back to human. With a curt nod, he sighed.

"I know."


End file.
